


Don't Forget to Write

by textonym



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 18th century kink, 18th century london, F/M, Gen, More Character and Relationship Tags to be added later, Period-Typical Sexism, There are oc, again the timeline isn't historically accurate but ignore it, as the story progresses ya feel me, historical fiction - Freeform, i mean its in the hamilton category so its not like it would be accurate anyway LOL, rich ppl stuff, they are too straight, this isnt historically accurate at all just ignore that ok, writing diary, writing letters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2018-10-15 11:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/textonym/pseuds/textonym
Summary: Angelica Church is a newly married woman, having just eloped and sailed off across the Atlantic Ocean without her father's permission, to live with her husband John in London. What is her life like there?





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how many chapters this will have, but it's starting at the moment Angelica arrives to her new house in London with her husband John Church. I'm taking a lot of artistic liberties here because this timeline is so different historically lol!!! but just go with it and u will enjoy the story. this was actually inspired by my british history course and my professor so thanks wendy for telling me everything about british parliament and upper class fashion in late 18th century london ur the best. also for some reason whenever someone mentions john church i imagine him as Mr Darcy from the pride and prejudice movie with kiera knightley so that's who im writing about in this. angelica is the original angelica in hamilton renee elise goldsberry.

The carriage stops, presumably in front of the new house in London. Sackville Street, he had said. Angelica sits up and opens her eyes, as she was tiredly leaning against the inner wall of the carriage. 

“Are we here?” she asks, slightly yawning. Angelica still feels sick, as she had since she stepped onto land from being on a ship for weeks.

“Yes, love.” her husband of two months, John, smiles. The carriage driver comes around and opens the door for them to get out. John gets out first, then extends his hand to help his wife down. Angelica laughs to herself then jumps out. “Must you always be so improper?” he asks.

“Yes. I find it quite enjoyable.” she teases. 

“At the ball tonight, you stay by me.” he instructs her, as she again tries to walk away, a bird on the street caught her eye. “Just do what I say. It will be easier.”

“No thank you, Mr. Church.” she laughs. 

“My God.” he quietly curses himself for his decision to marry an American woman. Not that he isn't happy with Angelica (or her money), but he is nervous about introducing her into London society. It's different than what she's used to in New York. He has doubts she won't forget herself.

John takes Angelica by the hand and leads her up to their new house. She takes in the entire scene, mesmerized by everything. London smells like tobacco. The house is huge, with a red brick exterior, and intricate paneling on the front door. The servants are lined up outside to welcome them. Angelica says hello to a young girl as she walks inside.

“You don't need to speak to the servants.” John says to her after.

Not that Angelica really cares either, but she wants to challenge him anyway. “Why?”

“You can if you wish.” he concedes, and the head of the housekeeping staff, Mrs. Smith, shows them around the home.

“I do love the tables in here.” Angelica smiles. John almost faints when she squeezes his hand.

“Madam.” 

“My apologies.” Angelica sighs. “May we look at the kitchen?”

“Why would you want to see the kitchen?” he laughs, thinking she's sarcastic. “You will not have to cook, I mean.”

“I know that. But I want to look at it.”

“Alright.” he sighs, the housekeeper shows her into the kitchens with a tight smile.

“It's beautiful.” she nods. “I love this house.”

“Now,” John says, stepping in behind her. “Shall we look at the upstairs?”

“How many floors?”

“Two.”

“Upstairs is the bedrooms, and the library and study.” the housekeeper says as she leads them up the staircase. 

“Marvelous.” Angelica smiles widely. She traces her finger along the banister of the staircase as she walks up. 

“Do you like the house then, love?” John asks.

“I do.” 

“Wonderful. We will be happy here, then.”

“Yes.” Angelica walks into the main bedroom, taking in the way it's set up, and the entire look of it. The sheets on the bed look like fine silk, in a deep purple color, and the walls are painted a dark green with small gold designs on the floor molding. Angelica's wardrobe case (she assumes) is in the corner, painted to match the theme of the room perfectly, along with a small desk with a mirror in the other corner. A fireplace is lit in the wall across from the bed.   
“This is beautiful.” she smiles.

“I'm happy it's suitable for you.” John says back. The housekeeper clarifies what time they would like to eat dinner, then leaves. 

Angelica turns around and flops back onto the bed. She lifts up her skirts, hands flying to roll up her stockings.

“What is it you're doing?” John asks nervously.

“I'm…” she says while she struggles with her clothes, and tries to untie her garters, “Taking my stockings off, dear. They're causing me a great discomfort. And I want to rest.”

“Oh.” 

Frustrated, Angelica lies back and decides to give up. Her corset has been uncomfortably digging into her back since she got off the ship this morning. 

“Do you need help? Let me call one of the maids for you.” he offers. John exits the room to find someone before Angelica can stop him.

“Ugh,” she sighs to herself. Soon enough, a maid comes in through the open door and smiles at her.

“Would you be needing assistance, Miss?” she asks. Irish accent, Angelica notices. She can't be more than sixteen. “I'm here to help, for any reason, any time.”

“Thank you.” Angelica nods. She stands up slowly, her skirts ends falling to the floor as she does. “Would you take the pins off my gown, please?”

“Of course Miss. Don't worry about anything, I've got clean hands, too.”

Angelica smiles. “Well that's good. And your name is…?”

“Mary.” she says. Mary moves her hands to the front of Angelica’s gown and starts unpinning it for her. “Can't imagine what it's like wearing all these layers.” she laughs. “Must be hot.”

“It's dreadful.” she sighs. Then she notices Mary is just standing there, like she doesn't know what to do. “Next you untie the corset.”

“Of course!” she says and rushes to get it untied. Angelica slides it off her shoulders once the ribbons are out and exhales a huge breath of air. 

“I must thank you again, Mary, I feel as if you've just saved my life.” 

Mary laughs. “Mine’s not so tight because I have to carry things. Your laundry and the like. Must surely slow things down.”

“What do you mean?” Angelica asks.

“I… I mean…” her face turns bright red as she stutters. “I'm sorry Miss I think I've just heard Mrs. Smith calling me to the kitchen.” she turns quickly on her heels and practically runs out of the room.

“Oh.” Angelica laughs to herself. She undresses herself to her chemise and lies back on the bed again. She notices how nice the sheets feel. Perfectly soft, with a slight smell of lavender. Angelica wants to bury her head into the pillows and never come out. So deep in her thoughts, she barely hears the door open when John comes back. 

“Darling, I- Oh!” he gasps, realizing she's only in her undergarments, and covers his eyes. “I'm so sorry, I didn't know you weren't dressed.”

Angelica laughs out loud. “John, you are ridiculous. Have you not seen me before?”

“I simply was surprised.” he explains, looking at her now. He's also blushing red, which Angelica finds amusing. “Uh-” he stutters for a minute, “Oh, yes, I was going to tell you, dinner is at five o’clock.”

“What time is it now?”

“It's just about four.”

“Oh.” she mumbles something John doesn't catch. “No visitors?”

“No, it will just be us.”

“Then… Need I dress again?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh.” she complains.

“It won't take long.” he says, which annoys Angelica even more, because, how the hell would he know how long it takes to get dressed in women's clothes? 

“Where is my trunk?”   
Angelica does not want to get dressed in her original gown again. That would just be painful, she needs a different corset. A simpler one. 

“I'll have them bring it in.” John turns and leaves again.

Pulling a pillow over her head, Angelica sighs deeply into the fabric. After a few minutes, she gets up and fixes her hair in the large mirror for dinner. She finds a dress and Mary comes back to help her put it on. 

“There you go, Miss.” she smiles. “All nice.”

“Thank you, Mary.” Angelica says. Maybe if she gets through dinner, John will let her see the library. 

They had a basic meal, though the food was delicious, especially after eating nothing but overly salted preserved meat for a month on a ship. Angelica decides at this moment, she’s never going on a ship again. If her family wants to see her, they’re coming to London. 

“Is everything all right?” she hears John ask. Oh, she was too absorbed in her thoughts again. Back to reality. Angelica reaches up and touches her cheek and realizes there were tears there. 

“I’m sorry.” she says, now trying not to cry. “I was thinking about my family. I miss them.”

At this, John offers somewhat of a comforting smile, or maybe apologetic. Maybe she shouldn’t have run off and sailed across the Atlantic Ocean with him. 

“Give me your letters in the morning and I’ll send them out as soon as I can. I’ll send them out first thing.” 

After dinner, Angelica and John have to get changed for the ball. Their neighbors, and one of John’s fellow parliament members, had decided to have a ball on the evening of John’s return to London, and Angelica’s arrival, as celebration and welcome. Angelica's gown is white, with slight hints of black patterning over the fabric, while John wears just a simple black jacket with the rest of his clothes. 

When she finally gets home again, Angelica notes that John can consume enough liquor in a night for ten people. She undresses again to her shift, then, when finally alone, changes into a silk robe from her trunk. John had bought it for her on the ship from a trader. Apparently he had recently been to China. She recalls how fascinating China sounded in his descriptions. The robe is beautiful, it's red with gold embroidery throughout. Angelica lies down in bed to get some rest, when John returns to the bedroom. He's still wearing his party clothes.

“Did you enjoy the ball, darling?” he asks.

“I did.” she smiles warmly. She spent the majority of the time being shown off by John like she was a doll to people she didn't know, but when they finally did get to dance, she had a good time. 

“Pleased to hear it.” he smiles back, then sets to changing into his night clothes. John hangs his jacket on the rack and removes his shoes, or at least tries to, because he ends up tripping over himself and stumbling, then cursing. 

Angelica laughs to herself.   
“John, do you need help?”

“I'm fine, dear.”

She smiles then rises from the bed, and seemingly floats over to him. He looks at her in the robe he bought and smiles, apparently John Church gets a kick out of buying expensive items for his wife. 

Angelica places her hands on his shoulders, then trails down his chest to unbutton his waistcoat, and unties his cravat and sets both garments on the clothing stand.

“Thank you.” he says to her. “I can manage the rest.”

“I want to do it.” Angelica states plainly. Then, she laughs at his reaction to that. “Am I seeing Mr. John Church, respected member of parliament, blushing?”

“No.” he says quickly, then laughs with her. John traces along her jawline with his finger, and Angelica wants him to kiss her, badly. “You are the most beautiful woman,” he starts.

Angelica smiles. “Thank you John.”   
Angelica places her hand on John’s cheek and leans up to kiss him. When he does respond and meets her lips with his own, she's finally content and goes back into bed. 

“Will you be going to sleep?” John asks, not wanting to disturb her if she is tired. 

“Unless you can think of something else to do in a bed.”

John looks pained. “My God, woman, are you trying to cause my death?”

Angelica laughs. “No, dear. But please do join me.”

Minutes later, he does join her, after finishing getting changed into his nightclothes.   
“Is the bed comfortable for you?”

“Yes.”  
John is always asking is Angelica is comfortable, if she's happy, if she wants anything. Sometimes he can be more of a footman than a husband, she laments. 

Surprisingly to both of them, John is the one who initially reaches out to Angelica.  
“I love you, Angelica.” he whispers against her hair, holding her tightly, like she's going to fly away if he lets go. Maybe she will. 

“I love you too.” she responds. Angelica runs her hands up into John’s hair while he's on top of her and moans into his ear. “John-” she gasps. “Oh,”

“You are…” he starts to say, but loses the rest of his sentence.   
Angelica digs her nails into the back of his head, he fucks her deeper and harder while she orgasms. John practically collapses on top of her after he finishes.

She smiles and kisses his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too Darling.” he breathes. 

They lie there for a minute in silence before Angelica speaks again.  
“I want to name him after my father.” 

John sighs, still trying to catch his breath. “All right. And if it's a girl?”

“My mother. Or my sister. Or Cornelia.”

He smiles. “All right.”

“Then the next one can be John.”

John laughs. “That's perfectly fine with me.”

“I'm going to sleep now. I will see you in the morning my love.” she yawns and leans back into her pillow, slowly descending into sleep.


	2. TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter includes brief descriptions of suicidal thoughts/intrusive thoughts! There is nothing graphic, but I don't want anyone to be upset reading this so Warning*   
> Angelica's day in London and stuff. Also Angelica and John are so straight smh

When Angelica wakes in the morning, John is gone. He's already at his office. She guesses that he needed to set up early. Angelica yawns and sits up, she turns to the bedside table next to her and picks up the servants bell left for her.

 

_ Ring Ring _

 

Immediately someone is knocking at the door.

“Do you need something Miss?”

 

“Yes, do come in.” Angelica says around her yawn. “Bring up my breakfast.”

 

“I'll ave your breakfast in just a minute, Miss.” Mary smiles and opens the curtains on the window. “Beautiful day.”

 

Angelica nods then waves her hand, Mary leaves to get the breakfast tray. Sitting up, Angelica looks around the empty room. The maids were in in the earlier morning, she sees John’s clothes from last night have been hung up, along with her gown and shift. She stands and walks to where her shift is hanging, takes off her robe, and pulls the shift on over her head, then adds the robe on top. That looks better. 

 

The door opens again and Mary comes in with another man behind her, he's carrying Angelica's breakfast tray.

“Here you are, Mrs. Church.” he says. “Tell us if it's suitable for you.”

 

“Thank you.” she nods and he leaves. Mary stands by the door, still, in her long brown skirt and uniform corset. “Mary.”

 

“Yes, Miss?”

 

Angelica sits and starts to eat her breakfast. 

“Mary, do you know where my husband is? I am afraid I suffer from boredom.”

 

“Mr. Church went to the office, he says.” Mary recalls. “Be back for dinner.”

 

“Oh, all right, then.” Angelica sighs. She takes another bite of her bread. “You may go.”

  
“All right, miss.” Mary curtsies to Angelica and exits the room. 

When Angelica is alone, she takes her diary out of the desk drawer and dips a quill in the ink well. 

 

_ Day one in London. John is at his office in the parliamentary building. I am bored and I wish he were here rather than at the office. Last night- what a blur. The ball went on for what seemed like forever. So long we had danced with the neighbors and friends of my husband! Mrs. Fox has invited me to her estate. I will accept of course perhaps on a day we are free of my husband's work. I miss my sisters and brothers and the business of new york city. and my parents, I miss them too. John says he has sent out my letters on this morning. I hope they find everyone well. I can’t bear to think of Eliza with no correspondence from me. I hope she is well and her husband. i am distraught at how my father must think of me as i have received no word from him since i have left new york island.  _

 

After finishing her diary writing, Angelica finds a clean piece of paper to begin a letter on.

 

_ Dear Father,  _

_ When you receive this letter, I must send my apologies as well. I have regret for my actions and leaving new york. I am sorry, father, if I have caused your opinion of me to change. Most critically, Tho, I do not understand why I am to live this way. I feel exiled from you and Mother. Please Father if you can manage to write me, do not stall any more. You have all my love as do mother and my sisters and brothers.  _

 

_ Your loving daughter, _

_     Mrs Angelica Church _

 

Angelica sighs and puts down the quill, setting out to the other room to find an envelope. She first ties her robe over her nightgown (which she should probably change out of, but it's her house, so who's gonna make her?) then steps into her slippers and walks out of the bedroom. 

 

“Mrs. Church, may I help you with anything?” a servant asks, pausing her dusting momentarily.

 

“Yes, where can I find an envelope for post?”

 

“Ohh, none were in your desk?”

 

“No.” Angelica says, staring.

 

“Very sorry about that, ma'am. You'll have to ask Mr. Frank.”

 

“Very well.” she sighs. “And where is he?”

 

“He usually is downstairs.”

 

“Thank you.” she sighs again and starts descending the huge staircase. Angelica wonders briefly what would happen if she slipped on the polished wood. What would happen if her head split open and brains spilled out all over the freshly cleaned surface. Just like all the soldiers she had seen killed in the war. 

 

Since she hasn't made any friends in London yet, and her husband is busy, she spends the rest of the day reading the newspapers and getting caught up on London news. That way, she figures, she'll know what people are talking about at any dinner or party. She loves reading, anyway. Angelica remembers, before she married John, he promised her he would bring her to Paris, because she's read so much about Paris and has wanted to go there for so long. So, she sits in the kitchen, in her robe, flipping through newspapers, even as the kitchen staff brings her meals, and it becomes hours later. 

 

The main opens suddenly, and she looks up, trying to get a view of the foyer to see who's come in. 

 

“John?” she asks aloud, walking out of the kitchen.

 

“Dearest.” he smiles, then notices she isn't dressed. “Why are you not dressed, at this hour?”

 

“Oh, I've been-”

 

“Never mind that. Go put on your best dinner gown. I've arranged plans with someone very influential, and I need you to behave.”

_ Behave _ . As if Angelica were some dog.

 

She smiles, somewhat painfully. “Of course.”

She keeps speaking to John while they both walk up the stairs.

“With whom are we dining?”

 

“I think you'll be surprised.” John says, and wait- is he laughing? John never laughs. 

 

“Is something amusing?” Angelica snaps at him.

 

“My God, woman, don't get emotional.” he says, condescendingly waving his hand at her, in a way that makes her want to scream and break it off at the wrist. “If you truly must know, we are dining with an American gentleman, a diplomat on leave from Paris here for a few nights. Now, get dressed.”

 

“Paris?” Angelica gasps, absently stepping over to the wardrobe and looking over her dinner gowns. “I wish I could go to Paris.”

 

“Yes, I'm sure he'll tell us all about it over dinner.” John sighs, changing his own coat.

 

“Will he? Who is he, John, I need to know.” she frowns. Angelica finally decides on a light pink gown and takes it out of the wardrobe. “Where is my maid?”

 

“Which maid?”

 

“Her name is Mary.”

 

John nods. “Right.” 

 

He steps out of the room and tells the nearest housekeeper to call Mary up to the room so Angelica can dress. A few minutes later, she comes in, Angelica is sitting on the bed with her various garments around her.

 

“Miss, may I help you?”

 

“Yes, I need to dress for dinner.” she nods and stands up.

 

“Of course, I'd be glad to help.”

 

“Thank you.” 

 

“Meeting somewhere fancy for dinner?” Mary asks as she helps Angelica into her various petticoats.

 

“Apparently so. Although-” she gasps as her corset is being tied, “Although no one will tell me where, yet.”

 

“Well, luckily, you'll look beautiful anywhere you go.” she smiles. 

Angelica just nods and looks at herself in the mirror. 

 

“Thank you.” she says. “Now, something to do with this hair.”

 

“I don't know how to do hair, Miss.” Mary frowns. 

 

“You don't?” Angelica sighs, then walks out of the bedroom to find John. She knocks on the library door, it's open.

 

“Yes?” he says, looking up from a newspaper in his library. 

 

“Do you know if any of the maids can do hair?”

 

“Why would I know?”

 

“I don't know.” Angelica sniffles. Pretending to get emotional always gets what she wants. “I just 

wanted to look nice, but my hair, it looks awful.”

 

“No, no, it looks lovely. You look beautiful, Angelica.” he stutters, rushing to comfort her. “I am sure that if any woman saw you wearing your hair a certain way, they would all copy it the next day.”

 

“Do you mean that?” she says, leaning on his shoulder.

 

“Of course, darling. You are the most beautiful woman in London.”

 

“I'm so emotional,” she says dramatically, appealing to John’s wet dreams of saving her, a 

distressed woman.

 

John reacts predictably, “I know, can't you just make it through dinner? I promise you look beautiful.”

 

“Yes.” she looks up. “I'm sorry for my emotional outburst.” 

 

“Angelica,” he says, staring at her with his dark eyes, and oh yes, she can tell he's thinking the same thing, that he wants to save her, she needs to be saved, “It's not a problem.”

“Yes, well,” she places a kiss on his cheek and pulls back from him, smiling. “Thank you.” Angelica pushes a flat strand of hair out of her face, then sighs.

 

“How do you normally wear it?” John asks.

 

“Oh, you know about women's hair?” Angelica laughs, teasing him. 

 

“Uh… No.”

 

Angelica smiles, then walks back into the bedroom, looking in the mirror. In a minute, Mary comes in again with someone behind her.

“Miss, I've found someone who does hair for you.”

 

“Oh.” Angelica smiles and turns around to greet them. “Hello.”

 

“Hello, ma'am.” she smiles. “What would you like me to do?”

 

“Oh, just do something with this, it looks dreadful.” Angelica mumbles to herself. “Flat and oily. Horrid.”

 

“Of course I can.” the hairdresser smiles and starts brushing through Angelica's silky hair. Eventually, Angelica has a poufy hairstyle with low side curls.

 

“Thank you.” she sighs, looking over it in the mirror.

 

John knocks on the bedroom door again. 

“Angelica, are you ready to leave?”

 

“Yes.” she yells back, then stands up. 

 

The hairdresser smiles. “Miss?”

 

“Oh, of course.” Angelica waves her hand towards the door. “See my husband for your payment. I've no money on me.”

 

“Thank you miss.” she nods her head to Angelica, then exits the room. Angelica sighs and walks out of the bedroom, meeting John downstairs. 

 

“With whom are we dining?” she asks again, but John still doesn't answer. He gives her a knowing look and waits as the carriage driver pulls up in front of the house, then lets her get in first. “Thank you.” she mumbles. Why is he not telling her who she's having dinner with. 

Once they're both in the carriage, Angelica pauses and sets her hand on John’s thigh, next to her.  He slightly jumps, obviously startled, then Angelica laughs when he moves to the other side of the carriage.

“What's the matter?” she smiles.

 

“Angelica.” John says, his tone is serious.

 

“Wha-a-a-t?” 

 

“Will you please behave yourself? You are not a child. This is not a joke.”

 

Angelica giggles to herself. John trying to scold her is actually hilarious.

 

“Angelica.”

 

“All right!” she says, finally. “God help me, my own husband, trying to make me die of boredom before I even get to eat.”

 

John sighs loudly, and then silently sits there for a minute. “Angelica.” he says again.

 

“Yes?”

 

He just looks up at her and then looks away. Angelica fluffs her skirt for a moment when the carriage stops. John waits for the driver to open the door, and steps out. He turns back to Angelica and extends his hand to help her out. 

 

“Thank you.” she smiles and steps down from the carriage. John leads Angelica through a gate that’s been opened for them, into a garden. “Oh, this is beautiful.” 

 

“I’m glad you like it, Ms Angelica.” Angelica hears a strange voice say near her. 

 

She turns around and gasps.

“Dr. Franklin?”

 

“Hello, darling.” Ben Franklin says, seemingly happily. “Nice to see you. How’s your father doing?”

 

“Oh, um.” Angelica pauses and glances at John. “I’m sure he is fine.”   
  


“I don’t think I’ve spoken to the man since, what, ‘75?”

 

“Yes, that was the year of the convention, was it not?” Angelica agrees. 

 

“Yes.” he nods. “Shall we to dinner, then?”

 

“Of course.” she grins. 

 

Over dinner, Angelica continues speaking to Dr. Franklin about her father and the Revolution. Ben Franklin seems to get intoxicated faster than John. Well, he is older. She remembers a time he came to visit the Schuyler home in Albany when she was a teenager. And then when she turned 20, John was there. Angelica glances over at John as he’s eating, (rather ungracefully), and sighs internally. This is how she wanted her life to work out, right? Of course it is. So why does she keep thinking about picking up the silver knife on the platter of chicken in front of her and sticking it into her neck? Never mind that. Just finish eating.

 

“And then…” Franklin keeps going on drunkenly, “There was the time… When I nearly electrocuted myself!” he laughs. “Oh, anything for science, anything for science.”

 

“You’ve many interesting stories, Dr. Franklin.” John notes. 

 

“Ah, well… I’m old.” he laughs again. “Now, sir, would you care for a cigar in the parlor?”

 

John nods, “Of course.”

 

Angelica is sure she sees John almost start choking when she cuts in. “May I join you, Doctor?”

 

“Well, I fail to see why not.” he concludes.

 

“Dr. Franklin.” John starts, “Do you not think it improper for a woman of my wife’s status to smoke?”

 

“And what status is that?” he asks. “Besides, what would we send her to do? There are no women at this residence.”

 

Angelica, though looking down at her plate still, smiles.

 

“Well… If you insist.” John says, though he doesn’t look so happy about it. 

 

Ben Franklin stands up and excuses himself from the table, Angelica and John following him a short distance away.

 

“He’s quite a strange man, don’t you think?” John asks quietly.

 

“Quite strange.” Angelica agrees. “But like my grandfather.”

 

John smiles and takes Angelica’s hand, leading her into the parlor after Dr. Franklin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angelica lets out a high gasp, closer to a shriek, in surprise when she walks into the bedroom and John immediately pushes her back against the wall. 

 

“What-”

 

“Angelica.” he smiles. 

 

“Y-yes?”

 

“I adore you.”

 

Angelica looks up at him, and smiles. “Yes, and I, you.”

 

“And I love you.” he says again and kisses the side of her face. 

 

She wrinkles her nose for a second, because John reeks of alcohol. But she gets over the smell when he kisses her again, her lips this time. Angelica wants to melt. This is what she wants. She knows that now. 

 

“John-” she gasps, when he pulls away from her, finally.

 

“Shh.” John smiles and places his finger on her bottom lip. He glances at the half-open door and steps away from her slowly to shut it. When he returns to where he was standing, Angelica stares at him, with a slight question in her eyes. “Now,” he says sharply. “You’ve angered me tonight, Angelica.”

 

“I’m sorry.” she frowns.

 

John looks down at her again (she’s only 5’2). “Did I ask you to speak?”

 

Angelica sticks her lips out. “N-no.”

 

“No, I didn’t, did I? Are you trying to ruin my life, Angelica?”

Christ. That’s such an accusation. How does all of this come from a cigar?

He goes on, and then it clicks for Angelica, what it is he’s doing. 

“You’ve been behaving horribly. I think you need to be taught a lesson, my dear.”

 

Angelica gasps. “Yes.” she says immediately. “I do.”

 

This is the John Church she married. Not the government member with stable connections in Parliament, no. The mysterious man who had used an obviously fake name when he met Angelica, and who kept looking at her during dinner, despite making no point to converse with her. The revolutionary arms dealer who visited at her father’s house and by the end of the night, had her skirts lifted over a desk. 

And then there was this game. Angelica’s still figuring the whole thing out, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying herself.

His fingers go from the side of her face, trailing down her neck, and then to the front of her dinner gown. It’s a light pink dress, with three pins to close in the front.

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

John slowly slides the gown back off of Angelica’s shoulders. 

 

“This damned thing.” he curses, pulling on the top of her stays. Unlacing takes too long, and John is too impatient. They both are. He reaches over to the desk and picks up a letter opener, slicing straight up through the ribbons. Angelica jumps slightly at the feeling of the cool metal on her chest. John sets it aside, and pulls the stays off of her, much quicker than he had with her gown. Then, he leans down and kisses her again, but this is much harder than the last time, and his hands are trying to remove her petticoats while he’s doing so. Angelica actually hears the sound of ripping fabric. Suddenly, she’s being carried. He sets her down on the bed, and, after, falls on top of her.

John stands up, next to the bed, and looks at her, just lying there.

 

She keeps looking at him, what does he want me to do now, what do I do now, what do I-

 

“Turn over.” John says finally.

 

_ Oh. _

Slowly, too slowly to her, she feels her stockings being rolled down to her ankles, then slipped off. Angelica keeps looking forward, she doesn’t want to turn around. She doesn’t want to see, she just wants to feel.

And she does. She feels a hand going over the back of her thigh, and then she bites down on her lip in preparation. It’s almost too much when she does feel it. His hand hits against her skin, hard, and she cries out anyway.

 

“Quiet.” John says calmly, too calmly. She turns around and looks up at him. He’s still completely dressed, save for his shoes, which were taken off downstairs. 

 

She tilts her head at him, wondering.  _  Well? _

 

John steps back for a moment, but never breaks eye contact with her, removing his coat, waistcoat, and everything but his shirt. 

“Turn around.” he says again.

 

So, Angelica turns around. 

 

He comes back behind her, though this time he’s kneeling on the bed. His fingers trace up and down her thighs again, over her body, lifting her shift. 

“John, please,” Angelica whines, she can’t believe she’s actually saying this.

 

“Please what?”

 

“Please touch me.”

 

“Hm,” he smiles, then slides his hand where she wants it, slowly pushes one finger into her.

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

By the third time Angelica climaxes, with John on top of her and her hands scratching up the back of his neck, she’s in tears. 

 

“John,” she almost cries against him, “I love you,”

 

John kisses her again, once on the lips and once on the neck, before climbing off of her and lying beside her. Angelica reaches out to touch him, and he holds her throughout the rest of the night. 

 

Angelica speaks again, quietly. She's not even sure John is awake.

“John?”

 

“Hm?” he's apparently coherent enough to respond, so she continues.

 

“Have I really ruined your life?” she asks, slightly sadly.

 

“What?”

 

“You said earlier I was ruining your life.”

  
“Oh. No, that was part of the game. You couldn't ever ruin anything.” he assures her, pulling her body tighter against him. She smiles and then starts to drift off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow that was......... kinky


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a flashback of Angelica in New York, then more of her life in London. Warning for a mention of child death/miscarriage (Since it was the 18th century, the rate of child death/miscarriage was high)

Angelica set down her book at hearing her mother’s voice calling her downstairs. She stood up from her chair, where she was reading peacefully, and walked down the staircase, touching the railing slightly. 

“Mother?” she said.

“Yes.” Catherine looked up, from where she was sitting, sewing in the parlor.

“You called for me.”

“I did.”

Angelica sighed. “Did… you need something?”

“I want you to sit with me.”

Suddenly, Angelica felt a twist of worry. She gasped. “Has something happened-”

“No. Don’t worry about your father. He will be returning later.”

“Oh, all right.” Angelica sighed. She took a seat in the chair next to her mother. 

“I wanted to speak with you about something.” Catherine said slowly. “You’re 20 years old.”

“Mother.”

“Don’t interrupt me, child.” she said harshly. Angelica looked down, feeling her cheeks flare up. 

“As I was asking…” Catherine turned to her daughter. “Have you liked anyone you’ve met with?”  
Of course, there were plenty of men who had come to the Schuyler house, seeking out Angelica for their wife. And each one who spoke to her, she disliked. 

“I don’t like any of the men who have spoken to me. They’re all weasels.”

“Do not speak of the soldiers defending the revolution in such a way!”

Angelica would roll her eyes, but her mother would hit her, and she knows that, so she holds herself from it.

“All of them are twice my age.” Angelica pointed out. “One was older than father and had three wives already!”

“I do not mean that you need to be in love with every man you speak to. Least of all, that one.” Catherine said. “However,” she started to say, then paused when she heard the back door open. She leaned forward in her chair to see if her husband had returned home, but to her disappointment, it was only a servant bringing in laundry. The girl nodded to her and smiled, then continued walking upstairs with the basket. “Angelica, I want you to be married by next year. Twenty one.”

“Mother!” Angelica gasped. “And what if I don’t find anyone?”

“Then I will find someone for you.” 

Angelica opened her mouth to protest that, but Catherine held up her hand.  
“Your father will return home tonight. I am sure there will be men with him. Dress nicely. Fix your hair.”

Angelica touched her hair self-consciously. Did it really look bad?  
“Remember yourself, Angelica.” Catherine nodded to her, signaling that she could go.

She stood up to walk away, then stopped. “Mother?”

“Yes?”

“How will I know? How will I know that I’ve met my husband?”

“You’ll know.” Catherine smiled. 

Angelica felt someone touching her hand. Surprised, she yelped and turned around, pulling her hand away from… her younger brother. “Johnny! You’ve scared the life out of me!”

Johnny looked up at her, he had the same dark brown eyes as the entire family, and dark hair. He grinned. “Not yet I haven’t.”

“What?” she asked, then looked at her sleeve, dirty with mud where he apparently was touching her. She shrieked. “Mother!”

“John, you leave your sister be, or I’ll whip your skin off, you hear me?” Catherine scolded him. 

“Yes Mama.” Johnny said quietly, then turns to exit the room.

“John.” she called him back. 

“Yes Mama?”

“Come sit with me and read.”

Johnny sighed and said yes, then walked out to wash his hands.  
Angelica smirked at him and slipped away to change her dress. Once she was back upstairs, however, her baby sister started crying, so it wasn’t not likely for her to get any quiet moments today. A nurse quickly rushed over to comfort the baby, and take her down to Catherine. Angelica took her dress off and then lied down in her bed.  
She just wanted a minute of quiet and to relax, knowing she was going to be married off in a year had stressed her out so much. 

“Why are you undressed?” she heard.

She looked up. “Peggy.”

“It’s me.” her younger sister, Peggy smiled, “Why aren’t you wearing a dress?”

“I’m just relaxing here.” Angelica explained. “And my dress was dirty, so I removed it.”

“Are you excited for the party tonight?” Peggy giggled, with her long brown hair flowing around her waist.

“Yes, I suppose. Are you?”

“Yes.” Peggy laughed. “I love parties.”

Angelica nodded. “I miss Father.”

“Well he will return tonight.”

“I know this.”

“Well all right.” Peggy said. “What are you wearing tonight? I’m wearing my yellow party dress.”

“I’m sure I can find something.” Angelica sighed.  
***  
Philip Schuyler walked into his house, through the front door, with a small group of men behind him. Some were soldiers, and some were merchants, and medical personnel.  
“Gentlemen, may I introduce you to my lovely wife, Catherine,” he nodded, showing everyone in.

Catherine smiled and walks up to everyone, pausing to let her husband kiss her cheek quickly.  
“Welcome, everyone. You all must be hungry. Let’s get everyone cleaned up and to dinner. A servant came over and showed everyone in, leaving Philip and Catherine alone.  
“How was it?” she asked, slightly frightened. 

“It was…” Philip sighed, trying to think under all this stress, “General Washington is planning something, that’s all I can tell you.”

Catherine nodded. “Go wash yourself. You smell like piss.”

“I’ve been gone for two weeks, and that’s all you can say of me?” he said, laughing.

“I’m tired, Philip.” she sighed. “I’m tired of war.”

“I know, my love.” he said, equally as tired. “It will be over soon. I promise.”

“How many men are here? We’ll need to have a few more beds brought out. I wasn’t expecting-”

“It will be fine. They’re used to sleeping on the ground.” Philip reasoned. “How are all the children. The baby?”

“The baby is doing well.” Catherine smiled. “I was worried for the poor girl at first, but she’s doing well now.”

“Girl?”

Catherine nodded. “Do you want to see her?”

“Of course.”

Catherine walked over to the room where the baby’s crib is, with Philip walking behind her.

“Oh,” he gasped. “She looks healthy.”

“She is.” she smiled, lightly touching her face. “My little girl.”

“She hasn’t been baptized yet?”

“No, I couldn’t have it done without you here.”

“Right.” Philip looked down at his daughter again. “Cornelia.”

“Cornelia.” Catherine repeated. “I like it.”

“Yes. Well, let’s to dinner.” he sighed and walked out to the dining room, where everyone stood to greet him.

“Father,” Angelica smiled, walking up to him. “We’ve missed you.”

“I've missed you too, Angelica.” he said, hugging his oldest daughter. “I've been gone for too long.”

“You must tell us.” Eliza said from her seat at the dining table, “What's happened? Are we winning?”

Philip frowned, he hated discussing the war with his children, and he was about to respond when his 8 year old son, Philip Jr, cut in.  
“Of course we're winning. Do you think Papa would let the British beat us?” 

“Quiet, boy.” he scolded him. “No more talk of war.”

Philip Jr looked extremely embarrassed and sat down. 

Catherine sighed. “Well. I'll show our guests in.”

After everyone was seated, and dinner was being served, Catherine was speaking about the history of the family home with some of the men visiting. Philip Jr and Johnny were talking to another soldier about what the war must be like, while Eliza and Peggy were being charitable hostesses and carrying on polite conversation with one of the younger men who was with their father. The two youngest children were being tended to by the nurse, and then there was Angelica. Angelica wasn’t saying much, just staring down at her plate, which she normally wouldn't do, but she didn't feel like talking right now. Someone else wasn't talking, too, she'd noticed, one of the men who came in with her father had been silent all night. She hadn't heard him speak one word since he walked in. But when she glanced up quickly, she caught him staring at her. He quickly looked away, and she did as well. Then she looked up again, and he was looking at her again, and, well, she wasn’t going to back away from a challenge, so she didn't look away this time, even though he turned to the side and pretended to be interested in his companion's conversation. 

After dinner, the guests thanked Catherine and were shown to their bedrooms for the night. Philip and Catherine retired to their bedroom, after everyone else is in bed.  
Except one person.  
Angelica quietly walked out of her shared bedroom with Eliza and Peggy, careful not to wake them up. She walked downstairs, where she normally sat to think when she wanted to be alone.  
But she wasn't alone.  
She was startled when she heard his voice.  
“Something on your mind?”

Angelica gasped, and whipped around. “You should not be here.”

“Yet I am. And you are as well.”

“Who are you?” Angelica asked bluntly. Propriety can go to hell, seeing as she was speaking to this strange man outside of visiting hours.

“John.” he said. “And you are Angelica.”

“I am.” 

Angelica felt strange, like she didn’t know what came over her. She kept talking, trying to keep on with the conversation. “Where are you from? Do you have a last name? Who are your people?”

“Too many questions.” he laughed. “My name is John Carter. I'm a salesman and I work with your father. Currently I’m on assignment from the Continental Congress to assess supplies, which is why I’m here.”

Angelica thought for a second, pressing forward. “I don't know any Carters.”

“I'm from England.”

“Oh.” she said, then her face must have looked disgusted, because he quickly explained further.

“I am not a British soldier. I promise you.” he laughed. “I moved to New York from London a few years back.” 

“Why?”

“Because I support America.” he smiled at her. “And you Americans are quite delightful people.”  
Angelica was dizzy. His smile was charming. He was so handsome. “Oh. Well… thank you for the support.”  
She knew how ridiculous that sounded when it came out, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

“And you,” he started, “Are married?”

“N-No.” she said, nervously.

“You must be engaged, then.”

“No.” she said again.

“Your parents are in the process of selecting someone for you to marry.”

“No.” 

“Oh. Are you saying, Angelica,” -she thought she could get used to the way her name sounded coming out of his mouth- “The most beautiful woman in America, is not tied to anyone?”

Angelica looked down. “I'm tied to myself.”

“How old are you?” he asked.

“I am twenty.”

John nodded. “I'm twenty nine myself.”

“And how old is your wife?” Angelica inquired.

“I have no wife.” he said.

Oh.  
“Oh.” Angelica said.  
They continued talking, and the conversation escalated to flirtation quickly. Angelica moved closer to John, because she wanted to, and who was going to stop her?

After what seemed like an eternity, John kissed Angelica on the cheek, one final time. “You should be off to bed, Miss Schuyler.”  
“I should.” Angelica nodded. “I should.” she repeated, then laughed to herself, why did she say that twice. “Will you be staying tomorrow, Mr. Carter?”

“Yes, if your father doesn’t have me thrown out.” he laughed.

Angelica laughed. “Well. Goodnight.” she smiled, going back upstairs slowly.

“Goodnight.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
The next day, Angelica decides to show John around the gardens near the house.  
John was opening the door for Angelica to walk back inside, when-  
“Angelica.” she heard, in a firm, low voice.

Immediately, she felt embarrassment flushing to her face and glanced back at John. Angelica saw her father's face, and, yes, he was angry. He looked like he was about to kill John on the spot, which would be funny if it wasn't so terrifying. She felt his gaze move off of her to John.  
“Get off my property before I shoot you.” he stated.

“General, if I may explain-” John tried to say, but Philip cut him off quickly.

“OUT.”  
John actually turned around and left. Angelica could die of embarrassment. How could he just leave her like that?

“Come here.”  
Her father didn’t have to tell her twice, she immediately and quickly walked over to her father and waited. Her head turned to the side fast when his hand struck her cheek. Her face burned but she knew she deserved it.

“Insolent girl.” he scolded her. “Have you no mind of where you stand?”

Angelica wanted to cry. She started. “Papa-”

“Quiet!” he sighed, then started talking again. “What do you think is happening here?”

“I-I was showing Mr. Carter the gardens, that's all, Papa-”

Philip didn’t listen, he just continued scolding her. “Do you not understand that we are at war? You cannot go outside by yourself. If some soldiers had been near-”

“I was not by myself, I was with-”

“Do not say that man’s name to me again. Any suspicions about him are now so confirmed.”

“What suspicions-”

“Does it not strike you as alarming that, in the midst of war, a British man is taking my daughter outside alone?”

“But he said-”

“And you believe whatever he said? He put you in the way of harm, Angelica. He knows how wrong he was, did you not see how he turned and ran instead of speaking to me like a man?”

“You said you would shoot him.” Angelica mumbled, directed to the floor.

“Angelica,” Philip sighed, angrily.

“Yes Father?”

“I am going to ask you a question and you will answer yes or no.” he paused and waited for her to nod in understanding before he proceeded. “Has that man touched you?”  
Angelica stared at the floor. She couldn’t answer that, she couldn’t lie.  
She started crying because that usually got her out of trouble. 

“Are- are you hurt?” he asked, now concerned.

“No Papa. I am embarrassed.”

“You should be.” 

“I…” she sighed and wiped her face. “But what if I love him?”

“I won't hear it.” Philip said firmly, “You do not. I do not trust that man.”

“But-”

“No.” he said. “Go speak with your mother.”

“I… All right.” she sniffled and walked away, she didn’t ever want to see John again after he just left her like that.

London, 1783.

“Something on your mind?” she hears from behind her, as she's lying in bed. Angelica nods but doesn't turn around. “Talk to me, Angelica. I'm begging you. Please tell me what's happening. You have to eat something.” John begs, his voice laced with worry since she hasn’t been eating for a few days.  
“I ate some bread earlier.”

“I know, darling, but you need more.”  
Angelica sniffles and wipes her nose. “I’m sorry John. I just don’t feel well.”

“Would you like any water? Or tea? Angelica, please talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”

“I’m sorry John.” she repeats. “I feel horrid.” she pauses, inhaling deeply. “I know children die commonly, but it hurts so much.” she sniffles. “I just don’t understand. I never saw my mother cry once when my baby sisters died.”

“Darling.” John says quietly, softly touching Angelica’s shoulder. He’s devastated, too, but he’s focusing on her right now, because if he lost her, he’d probably die, himself.

Angelica shivers, so John gets up and closes the window, stopping the cold air from coming in. He sits down again, and covers Angelica with a wool blanket. “What should I have prepared for dinner?” he asks. “Anything you would like?”

Angelica pauses for a minute. “Will you have them make a soup?’

“Yes, of course. I’ll inform the kitchen staff for you.” he says, hurriedly kissing her on the cheek and rushing out of the room to order dinner. When he returns, Angelica is lying down still with a blanket over her head.

“Angelica,” he says quietly, pulling the blanket back.

“I'm here.” she mumbles.

John nods and then lies down next to her. “Angelica,” he says again, and she nods and moves closer to him, letting him hold her and stroke her hair. “Don't worry. Everything will work out.”

“I know.” she sniffles. “I know.”

“And when you're feeling better, your friend wants to visit you. I told her earlier that you were sleeping.”

“Oh… I can see her tomorrow.”

“All right.” he smiles. “Angelica.”

“Yes?” she says, feeling like the whole world is shaking.

“I love you.” John says softly.

“Mhm.” Angelica says, moving closer against him. She falls asleep to him holding her there.

John wakes Angelica up later, to eat dinner. She’s not able to walk downstairs to the dining room, but she manages to sit up at the desk and drink her soup.  
Angelica sniffles after the servers take the empty dishes away.  
“What is it, love?” John asks.

“What if I’m cursed?” Angelica asks, crying. “Our marriage is cursed, John.”

“No, darling. Don’t say that.”

“It is!” she cries, now sobbing, “I’m cursed.”

“You just need to rest.” he says, bringing her into his arms. “Shh, just rest.”

“I’m so tired.” she breathes, resting her head against his chest. Angelica looks up at John and sighs.

“Yes?”

“You smell like alcohol.” she says quietly. 

“Only a little.” he responds, then kisses her forehead. 

“Can I have a drink?” she asks.

“You can have anything you want.”

“Thank you.” she smiles and sits down again. John places a glass on the desk in front of her and she takes a long drink. “Thank you.” she says again. “Come to bed with me.”

“I have work to sort out.” he says apologetically.

“Please.” she frowns. 

“All right.” he smiles and picks her up, carrying her into the bed. Angelica giggles, John really treats her like a queen. She’ll feel better tomorrow, he tells himself. It’s just temporary. It has to be. She has to get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I hope that was good lmao. I have a whole 83 page google doc of this fic cause I want to write a novel eventually so I post parts on here haha. If you didn't get the implication, Angelica suffered a miscarriage :( I didn't want to post anything too graphic describing it tho! I love Angelica sm I just want her to be happy idk why I keep torturing her like this :/ also add my instagram and twitter angischuyler if u want ok cool

**Author's Note:**

> U CAN TELL THIS IS FICTION BECAUSE ANGELICA CALLED JOHN A RESPECTED MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


End file.
